


Do You Wanna Touch...?

by tryslora



Series: A Kind of Magic [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Awkward Naked Conversations, Community: fullmoon_ficlet, M/M, Naked Dudes in the Shower, Pining, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 16:19:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Giving in to temptation a second time would be irresponsible. Derek knows this, but it doesn’t stop him from seeing… thinking… and feeling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Wanna Touch...?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Prompt #5 - Temptation at fullmoon_ficlet on Livejournal. I do not own the characters or world of Teen Wolf and Hogwarts.

They are in the middle of a war, so of course it’s the perfect time for a game of Quidditch.

Derek doesn’t want to go, but Laura drags him back to Hogwarts anyway, saying that it’s for _Stiles_ so of course they have to go. Which is how he ends up in the locker room surrounded by the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams that he remembers from his childhood, as if the war had never happened.

He can see hints of the war in the way Allison Argent watches the Hales warily, seeming to expect them to erupt into violence against her in retribution for her grandfather’s actions.

He can see the way Jackson’s asshattery has climbed to an eleven out of ten; perhaps he thinks that by being the world’s worst prick he can hide his fear of how the war will treat him.

But then he hears Stiles crack a joke, and Scott laughs. Lydia sways close to Jackson and they start to smile. Laughter heals, they say. Perhaps that’s why Stiles seems to be their pet, their mascot. Their anchor.

The game itself is as brutal as Derek expects. Now in their seventh year, Scott and Stiles are brilliant flyers. None of the others have lost their edge since leaving Hogwarts, and it is a good time to let off steam. By the time they gather in the locker room again when the game is done, most of the players (and half of the watchers) are covered in mud and bruises, aching but happy with how the game went.

Derek’s gaze shifts back to Stiles who is excitedly describing what he terms the most brilliant play of the game. He has his gear off, and the t-shirt he wore under it is brown from mud, caked in places, and riding up every time he gestures with his hand to show _exactly_ how people flew.

Derek can’t help but watch as the strip of skin is exposed between the shirt and Stiles’s jeans, a thin, clean, pale stripe that teases at the imagination. No one else is staring at him like that, only Derek.

It tempts him, and a low growl rises when he sees Scott tug him in and ruffle his hair before passing him off to Isaac for a hard hug, then Boyd for a backslap.

“He’s been of age for a year, you know, little brother.” Laura is nowhere near him, but he can hear her words clear as a bell, and hear the laugh that underlines them. “All you have to do is ask, and you might even survive if he said no.”

The growl deepens when Stiles chooses _that_ moment to strip off his shirt entirely and toss it into the laundry bin for the house elves to collect later. Derek’s hands curl into tight fists, and he mutters under his breath, “Not going to happen.” He can’t stand the way it just makes Laura laugh.

He tosses his own clothes aside and stalks into the showers, closing his eyes so he won’t be tempted to sneak peeks at the lithe body when Stiles joins him there.

“You’re even more sour than usual,” Stiles says cheerily. “Should I guess this means you didn’t bring me a gift? There’s a room set up back in the castle for a party. Deaton okayed it and everything. Laura says you’ll be joining us.”

“Happy birthday.” It comes out as a snarl, and Derek turns into the water to wash suds from his hair. “You flew well.”

“High praise coming from you, so I’ll take that as my gift. I’d thought about going pro, but with everything…” Stiles’s voice trails off, but he doesn’t need to say more than that. The political situation weighs heavily on everyone. “Anyway. I’m looking at other options. I’m not good enough for the pro Quidditch league anyway.”

Derek can’t stay under the water forever. He twists it off and hears it fade by Stiles as well. When he looks, Stiles is just wrapping a towel around his waist, hiding himself away. Two spots of color rise to Stiles’s cheeks, and his gaze drops to the floor instead of staring at Derek.

“I um… I’m going to go get dressed and head back up to the castle. I hear someone rattling around out there, which means Laura’s probably waiting for you. Or I could wait. Walk back up with you. If you wanted.” Stiles scrubs a hand through his hair, making the short strands stand up spikily. 

There is a difference between what Derek wants, and what he knows is right. Still, he shrugs one shoulder. “It won’t take me long to get dressed,” he says, which isn’t an answer even though Stiles seems to take it as one.

“Fine. Cool. I’ll wait.” Stiles ducks out of the shower, presumably to get dressed, but Derek stands there a little while longer, just listening. He hears Laura call out a goodbye and the door close behind her. 

By the time he emerges from the shower, Derek knows that he and Stiles are alone. His fingers itch with temptation and he shoves his things into his travel bag with a low growl of frustration. Stiles finds him there, head in his hands as he sits on the bench, breath rough in his lungs. 

“Derek?” Stiles crouches down, head cocked as he looks at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He takes a shaky, uneven breath. He doesn’t reach for Stiles; making that connection now would be irresponsible. Derek cannot give in to temptation. “Folks’re waiting for you. Can’t delay their cake. Let’s go.”

Derek tries not to think how comfortable it is to walk beside Stiles as they head back to the castle. It would be so easy to fall, and he’s seen the folly of that before. He won’t let temptation win again.


End file.
